genisis
by Miah-Chan
Summary: There's a thrumming in his chest, electric and tingling, though he's unsure whether to attribute it to nerves or excitement. Maybe both; tomorrow marks the start to the rest of his life, after all...Tooru's earnings have never been handed to him and he doesn't plan to expect it now.


Here's my piece for the _Beyond!_ zine, that unfortunately never made it to publication but was fun to work on nonetheless! If you check out their Tumblr collegeauzine you can find the **free pdf zine** & experience all the incredible art & fics that were a part of the project!

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Tooru can't _sleep_. **  
**

He could blame it on the bed—too firm, less giving than the one he'd slept in for fifteen years, and a bit too short for his long legs—or the stuffy air of the room (he'll have to remember to buy a fan soon). It's possible that the streetlamps' light trickling in from under the blinds is distracting (or that the lack of glowing stars above his head is unsettling) or that Bokuto is snoring away in his own bed just a few feet away—or the unfamiliar drone of a restless city outside of his window rather than the soft cadence of cricket-song to lull him into dreams.

He could list a plethora of reasons, really, but overall it comes down to an overwhelming sense of _new_ , of _beginnings_.

There's a thrumming in his chest, electric and tingling, though he's unsure whether to attribute it to _nerves_ or _excitement_. Maybe both; tomorrow marks _the start to the rest of his life_ , after all.

Well, maybe that's a _bit_ dramatic, but still. College isn't exactly a walk in the park—he doesn't expect to breeze through four years relying on just his charm and pretty face to get him onto the World Court.

Tooru's earnings have never been handed to him and he doesn't plan to expect it now.

Sighing, he flips onto his side, closes his eyes, and reviews all the necessities for tomorrow, hoping it'll mimic the effects of counting sheep. Maybe if he knows he's one-hundred percent prepared, sleep will finally grace him with it's precious presence (nevermind that he double-checked everything an hour before he laid down to begin with).

He pictures everything in his mind's eye as he makes a conscious effort to gradually relax his muscles. His class schedule is sitting on his desk, detailed with each respective building name, room, number, and floor level; there's a second copy tucked away in his backpack, just in case he forgets or loses the first, accompanied by a map of campus (he's fairly certain his exploration on move-in day was thorough but he'll be damned if he's late to _any_ class on the first day). He even added a shorthand version to the notes app on his laptop as a backup measure.

His notebooks are all in order, each with their own syllabus, and he's filled his trusty Star Wars pencil case with pens (pencils are for _quitters_ ), highlighters, and various other supplies he might need. His books for morning classes are packed while the others wait their turn, stacked according to subject, on his desk next to his favorite photo of the Seijoh third years and the Godzilla keychain hanging on the edge of it's frame.

A smile tilts his lips at the memory that image brings to mind. A candid shot, courtesy of Yahaba, of all four of them in a semi-circle shooting the breeze as usual. Makki's leering suggestively at him, Mattsun leaning casually on Makki's shoulder as he grins; Oikawa's expression is, in his opinion, appropriately offended, one hand over his heart as he defended his honor. Iwaizumi stands to Oikawa's right, openly laughing at their antics.

Thinking of them sends a brief pain shooting through his chest, so he flips onto his back and catalogues whether he has his volleyball gear prepared for tomorrow's afternoon practice. He knows it's all sitting in a sports bag at the foot of his bed, though he'll have to remind Bokuto to grab his water bottle from their mini-fridge before they go. He knows he'll have no problem finding the gym thanks to both his first tour with his parents and Iwa-chan, plus his and Bo's exploration a few days ago.

He's rehearsed his introduction to himself at least twenty times now, knows it's a perfect mix of respectful, determined, and just a little cheeky, but butterflies still swarm stubbornly in his stomach. He circles his palm over it in an attempt to calm down—it's silly to get anxious over something like this, he was scouted for this team and was literally Captain of Seijoh just a few months ago when they used to practice with university players—but, unsurprisingly, not even logic can convince his heart to leave it's current residence in his throat.

That's just it—he was _scouted_ , this university _sought him out_ , he _has_ to do well. There is no other option; he must succeed. Of course, he doesn't expect to become a starter immediately, but he'll have to work just as hard, no, _twice_ as hard as he did in high school just to make sure his coaches notice his resolve, his skills—

A faint buzzing near his head jars him from spiraling any further into a panic. Blowing out a shaky breath, Tooru flips onto his stomach to retrieve his phone from it's place charging on his nightstand; the timing is impeccable and there's only one person who could pull that off.

' _oi dumbass u better be asleep_ '  
' _8ams come early u know_ '

Tooru has to muffle his giggle into his pillow (though a small sound like that is unlikely to rouse Bokuto in the slightest, honestly) and types back impishly, ' _Iwa-chan shouldn't you worry about yourself? You need all the beauty sleep you can get or you'll scare off your classmates tomorrow._ '

' _don't make me skip my 1st class just to come sock u 1_ '

' _Aww Iwa-chan, I didn't realize you missed me so much already!_ (´▽`ʃƪ)' Tooru replies, grinning. His previously thundering heartbeat has already begun to slow.

Iwaizumi's retort is immediate and predictable: ' _as if_ '

His grin softens into a knowing smile and he hums to himself thoughtfully. Iwaizumi wouldn't be awake at this hour if he weren't experiencing his own bout of nerves; medical school _is_ kind of a big deal, after all.

Tooru teases his friend for a while, falling into a familiar rhythm as easily as he breathes, as he contemplates asking the question that's really on his mind. He's probably—definitely—overthinking all of this but it just feels so _important_. He wants to stand on The Court, wants to set to teammates sporting his nation's colors, wants it _so badly_ it physically hurts sometimes, and tomorrow marks the start to getting there. He doesn't even want to think about _thinking_ of failure lest it jinx him.

He can't be the only one, right?

' _Are you nervous?_ ' he finally sends, biting his lip as he waits for the reply.

' _ofc i am, what kinda question is that?_ ' is Iwaizumi's near immediate answer. ' _not like we're starting our futures or anything_ '

The reassurance courses through him, palpable in its effect; the tension in his shoulders melts away, breathing feels less constricted than it has all day. The smile that curves his lips is soft as Tooru cradles his phone gently, reading the words again. Leave it to Iwaizumi to ground him in only a couple of gruff sentences.

' _u'll be fine so go to sleep alrdy_ ' is the next text, sent in response to the radio silence Tooru accidently created in his moment of relief. He laughs quietly to himself. _Iwa-chan knows me too well._

' _Of course I will be! I'll have the entire Uni swooning over me before the day ends_ (•̀⌄•́)و✧'

' _ugh. gnite dumbass_ '

' _Sweet dreams Iwa-chan!_ '

Heart light in his chest, Tooru plugs his phone back into it's charger, rolls over and falls asleep with a smile, warmth lulling any remaining butterflies to rest.

Roughly fourteen hours later, Tooru steps into the gym and basks in the familiar air, letting the encouraging calls of "nice receive!" paired with the squeaking of sneakers and scent of salonpas wash over him. The rhythmic _slam_ of volleyballs against the court floor sounds like home.

He's jittery with excitement, anticipation, and, admittedly, nerves. He's back to being a first-year, after all.

Bokuto shows no such hesitation, bouncing on his toes at Tooru's side as they enter the gym together. He tugs on Tooru's arm, nearly vibrating with restrained enthusiasm, and points in various directions as he babbles happily about everything he sees. Tooru nods along at appropriate moments, knowing Bo will repeat himself later about half a dozen times, while they make their way towards the sideline where other first-years have gathered to watch the practice match currently in session. Tooru inhales sharply at the sight of them.

There are more than he predicted; apprehension churns his stomach briefly and the unwanted feeling of _competition_ slides into focus.

But just as quickly a stern voice lectures, ' _These are your new teammates. Strongest six, remember?_ ' and Tooru thinks it sounds suspiciously like Iwa-chan. A phantom pain flares in the bridge of his nose, four years past and quick as a blink, and he grins to himself.

The practice match concludes and the captain calls for the first-years to gather around for new member introductions. They perk up, jogging eagerly across the gym to fall in line before their new senpai. Bokuto takes off at full tilt (with a holler that sounds like a cross between a war cry and an owl hoot, much to Tooru's dismay) leaving Tooru to catch up on his own.

He takes a moment to watch everyone move ahead and the electric tingling from last night thrums through his chest anew.

 _This is it_ , something echoes within him. _The beginning of the rest of your life._

How frightening.

How _exhilarating_.

Tooru takes his first step forward.

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Thanks for reading! As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts! 3

Find me Miah_Kat on AO3 for regular updates!


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